


The Past

by AmaranthPrincess21



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmaranthPrincess21/pseuds/AmaranthPrincess21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Petra's first kill as a hitman, she's anxious and Levi knows the perfect remedy to that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Past

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from Tumblr user Soledadestefan.  
> Starter/prompt: "My childhood spat back out the monster that you see" from [this post](http://amaranthprincess21.tumblr.com/post/115449328482/fallout-boy-sentence-starters)

“You know, I barely know anything about your past,” Petra said after taking a drag of her cigarette. The two were sitting around in the small hotel they were holed up in, relaxing after a hit. It wasn’t a big deal to him. Find the target, shoot him, leave before anyone could arrest them. It’d been successful, but Petra seemed very unnerved. He’d never seen her this anxious. Biting her nails, talking nonstop, going through half a pack of cigarettes.

“Maybe I like it like that,” he countered, deciding to bite. 

“Well, do you?”

“I don’t know much about you, either,” he pointed out before putting out his cigarette. 

“Fair point.” She paused. “I tell you my life story and you tell me yours?”

“Why are you in such a talky mood all of a sudden?” he asked, raising a thin eyebrow. 

“I don’t know. I just need to talk.”

“Understandable. I was anxious after my first time too. I’ll bite. What was your childhood like?” 

“It was nice, I guess. My parents doted on me, I was spoiled. But I was completely dependent on them, you know? I never really learned any life skills so when the time came to go into the real world, I had no idea what to do. And there weren’t any jobs I wanted to do. I didn’t know any practical skills and I didn’t know what I wanted to do. My money was running out and that’s when I met you and now we’re here.”

“You know, I was always curious about how a goody two-shoes like you got into this line of work. I guess this explains things,” he shrugged. 

“Yeah . . .” she said, unsure of how to react. Was that a compliment? Was it an insult? Was it both? Knowing Levi, it could easily be both. “But what about you?”

“It wasn’t that remarkable, to be honest,” he admitted. “Mom was a hooker. No idea who my dad was and we didn’t bother to look into it. I was born and raised in the gutter. Got accosted a lot just walking around. This neighborhood isn’t nice or forgiving to children. As I got older I went to schools where there were metal detectors and it wasn’t unusual for the fights to get really nasty. During high school I needed to focus on getting money. My mom loved me but made it clear she couldn’t support me much longer. Not that I blame her; her money was running out and her income could barely support one person, let alone two. I did small jobs at first, dealing drugs, mugging people. I couldn’t get references from people so that shot down the chance of getting a legitimate job. I had an uncle who was a hitman and he made bank. I learned the trade from him. My first was when I was eighteen or nineteen and here I am today, still doing the same old job.” Petra felt a stab of guilt. He’d had to fight for everything and had a less than ideal start at life. Not to mention he’d been a hitman since he was a kid, basically. Her comforting instinct took over and her arms threw themselves around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“What are you doing?” he asked, arms wrapping around Petra’s waist despite his confusion.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” she told him. He shrugged.

“It happens,” he said. 

“Levi?”

“Yeah?”

“When we have kids, promise me we won’t raise them here and we’ll give them better childhoods than we had.”

“Do you really think we’ll be able to have kids someday?”

“I’d like to.” He remailed silent, burying his face in her soft ginger hair. 

“ . . . Same,” he said after a while. “We’ll give them something better than we had.”

  



End file.
